


Good Morning, Angel

by MeAndTheBoys



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Animated GIFs, Casual Sex, Choking, Established Castiel/Dean Winchester, Established Relationship, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Rough Sex, Shameless Smut, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-06
Updated: 2017-05-06
Packaged: 2018-10-28 15:21:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,870
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10833978
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MeAndTheBoys/pseuds/MeAndTheBoys
Summary: Castiel gets a playful morning wake up from Dean.This is just shameless smut gif fic.





	Good Morning, Angel

**Author's Note:**

> I'm taking fic requests!
> 
> Also I'll add more GIFs later

Castiel begins to wake up, his naked body only partially under the soft covers as his eyes wearily open. But the lids are heavy and it’s much brighter than he’d anticipated so he remains suspended between his dreams and the surrounding room. Light pours through a window and the rich warm scent of vanilla permiates the air, the hum of a cheap A/C unit dull in the background. A candle is lit in the corner of the run down motel room but, from where he’s laying, Castiel doesn’t see it.

While the previous day had been arduous it had ended passionately and the events still played in his restful mind. Before fully rousing from his sleep, he feels a hand on his back. It begins as a light brush between his shoulder blades. The calloused fingers press down one by one, rugged palm following, until a full heated hand rests against his skin. His lids drop down again and he smiles, content, his head against the pillow. As the hand begins to slide down his body, drifting down Castiel’s rib cage, past his waist and hip, finally resting just above the man’s pubic v-line, Dean slides closer. Cas can feel the heat of Dean’s body.

As soon as his chest is flush against Castiel’s back, lips ghosting up his neck and resting at the shell of his ear, Dean says, “Keep your eyes closed.”

And Cas does.

The hand not threatening to dip down and wrap around Castiel’s already half erect cock lingers near the back of his neck. There isn’t a part of his body that hasn't, at one point or another, been conquered by Dean’s careful touches but, even so, each caress feel new and the spark beneath his fingers emanates throughout Castiel’s body. Dean’s nails grate up the angel’s nape until he’s combing upward through his hair. All the while Dean’s lips clasp around Castiel’s earlobe, tugging playfully before sucking the sensitive skin into his hot mouth. Cas hums with approval, pressing himself against Dean’s body-- rewarded by the sensation of an erection prodding back.

Systematically, Dean’s touches evolve from light, feather-like pressure, to something hungry and passionate. The slow tease of his hand around Castiel’s pelvis becomes a determined jaunt toward his cock, grasping the base and scooping the man’s balls in one swift movement. Following in suit, his other hand grasps tightly at Cas’s hair, tugging and arching his neck while exploring the skin with a covetous mouth. Entranced, Castiel’s breathing picks up. His heart pounds loudly and each little bite and lick sends a pinprick cold chill down his spine so he lets out a groan, eyes closed and staring into red lit eye-lids.

The only sounds between them are heated breaths, rustling sheets, and the spit crackling in Dean’s mouth as he places open mouthed kisses down the length of the other man’s shoulder. Casually, he pushes the sheets out of the way, cool air meeting with Cas’s skin only for a half second before Dean’s flush against him once more, cock hard and nudging the cleft of his bottom.

Dean’s hand strokes the length of Castiel’s erection, thumb running over the head of his cock, picking up pre-ejacualte and distributing it over the tip before rubbing back down again. He repeats this slowly, over and over, as he humps with increasing aggression against Castiel’s back. This rhythm is comfortable and familiar-- albeit mildly uncoordinated.

Finally, the hand in Castiel’s hair releases and he feels Dean’s fingers drift around his face, drawing an invisible line from his cheek to his lips, caressing the soft skin. Knowing what he wants, Cas opens his mouth but the fingers linger. His over-eager actions are punished by hesitant fingers as they trace leisurely circles around his pink parted lips before slipping past his teeth and pressing against his tongue, salty skin biting Castiel’s taste buds. Corners of his lips curling into a soft and unseen smirk, Cas closes his mouth and sucks on the digits, tongue caressing their length and spit flooding around them. Dean’s hand hasn’t stopped toying with Cas’s erection and, enjoying the stimulation, Cas grunts into the fingers to encourage him to continue his efforts. Dean obliges and simultaneously licks his way up Cas’s neck.

“I fucking need you,” Dean groans against Castiel’s skin, punctuating his statement with a greedy rut against the man’s ass. Playfully, Cas grinds back into it, smirking wider despite the digits in his mouth.

Like he’s explored the landscape of Cas’s body a million times before, Dean brings his fingers from his mouth down to his bottom, sliding back to allow room for his own arm and resting it along the length of the man’s torso. With the tip of one wet fingertip, he presses against Castiel’s hole but not with enough pressure to overcome the natural resistance. For several seconds, though they feel much longer, Dean teases him this way, finger just barely entering before pulling back and Castiel becomes so frustrated that the moment he’s finally gratified, Dean’s index finger pressing all of the way in, he lets out a fulfilled sigh.

“Don’t tease me,” Cas complains, squirming into the touches.

Indulging the whining plea, Dean works in the second finger. For as long as it takes him to reach his free hand into the drawer of his side table and grab a bottle of lube, their bodies separate. Cas hears the snap of the top and the lewd noise of the lubricant being squeezed from the bottle. The fingers continue to work in and out of him, scissoring apart and stretching him as the slick sound of Dean stroking his own cock with his lubricated hand tantalizes Cas’s imagination.

In a single sudden movement, he removes his fingers and rolls onto Castiel’s back, the weight of his body pressing the other man flat against the bed as he bites the back of his neck just below his hairline. Castiel arches his hips off of the bed. The movements flow so fluidly it’s as if they’d been rehearsed. After adjusting himself and allowing Cas to prop himself on his knees, Dean carelessly grasps the man’s hip and, cock held in his free hand, uses the tip of his erection to slather the lube onto Cas’s opening before pressing himself in slowly. A small and satisfied sigh escapes the lips of both men and Dean places his hands firmly on either side of Castiel’s hips as he tugs the man back back, pelvis pressing against his ass. Cas groans as Dean fills him.

Then, without warning, he begins thrusting. While the pace doesn’t ramp up gradually he leaves room for an increase in speed, the steady slap of skin indicating each push. Just as Cas gets used to the stretch, Dean’s hand slips away from his hip, leaving a damp cool mark of drying lubricant behind, and moves up to his head.

“I want to hear you moan,” he rasps, thrusting harder, pressing Cas’s head against the pillow.

Castiel complies, groaning out a profanity as Dean continues his increasingly rampant and determined pace. Soon, Cas isn’t thinking about making these little noises as they spill from his lips, fingers dimpling the mattress and tugging the bed sheets into little bunches within his palm.

Each time Dean rams against his body, Castiel’s cock slides along the bed and he rolls his hips, begging for some form of relief. Dean can feel this. He sees the tension in Cas’s back and feels the way he’s writhing below him and he smiles, snaking his hand around Castiel’s head and pressing his palm flat on his forehead. Pulling the man’s head up while pressuring his chest against the bed, lips brushing against Cas’s ear as he pants humid breaths against the other man’s damp skin, Dean says, “Touch yourself.” Without a second thought, Cas drops his hand to his cock, knees only now starting to feel a mild discomfort from the rocking weight of their bodies.

“Touch yourself for me. I want to feel you come around my cock,” Dean’s groaning, nearly growling, hand gracelessly sliding down over Cas’s face to wrap around his neck.

His pulse is racing and the obstructed blood flow throbs against Dean’s fingers as they compresses his arteries. The thud of Castiel’s heart grows louder and louder within his ears and he strokes himself faster. With each passing second the sound of his inhibited blood flow begins to overtake that of Dean’s breathing. Swallowing, feeling his Adam's apple bob against Dean’s angry palm, Castiel becomes light headed. The thrusting slows but he drives into Cas roughly. For just a moment, Cas is allowed oxygen as Dean re-positions his hand. Air rushed into his lungs but the gasp is cut short and the relief short lived. Dean’s grasp is reaffirmed and Castiel is left deprived once more.

Orgasm building, Cas is humping, aching for more, back into each of Dean’s pounding thrusts. His lips open in a soundless cry, head arching back, begging for air. But Dean doesn’t let up. Eager for relief, Castiel moves his palm away from his cock and soaks it with his own spit before allowing himself to cater a climax.

Every muscle in Castiel’s torso is activated, Dean’s cock ramming relentlessly into his body. His breathing is jagged and sharp. The blood is built up, begging for passage but Dean’s fingers don’t budge and the groan of pleasure is trapped beneath. There is a tension in Castiel’s chest as his lungs scream for air but he can’t bring himself to pay attention to the ever growing tightness or the way that the light is slowly fading from his half-lidded eyes because he’s coming.

Dean’s bicep rests against the back of Castiel’s shoulder and he squeezes his neck tightly, picking up the pace to match the clenching of the man’s ongoing orgasm. Castiel spatters the sheets below with spurt after spurt of ejaculate. Finally, just as Cas begins to think he’s going to pass out, Dean lets go.

In a flash of white light, the blood rushes both up to Castiel’s head and down to his heart, lungs drawing in a loud gasp of air before quickly expelling an exhaled moan, ragged breaths following as he works to make up for lost oxygen. His hand still strokes his cock, but soon stops moving simply to grasp the base and Dean continues to thrust. His movements become less fluid and Cas can feel Dean’s cock begin to pulse inside of himself. Not having realised that he was doing it in the first place, Cas lets go of the sheets, which are fully pulled off from one the side of the mattress. Several final thrusts follow Dean’s orgasm before he drops down, chest heaving, to the sheets.

Castiel turns his head to face Dean, eyes lazily traversing the muscled contours of his body which was covered in a fine film of sweat, and smiling. Dean returns the smile and reaches over, placing a gentle hand on Cas’s lower back, stroking it downward to his bottom and squeezing a cheek. Then he rolls out of the bed, nearly flaccid cock in hand, and starts a shower.


End file.
